The Open Door

*same warning... bloodplay ahead... you have been warned!*

The night sparkles with distant fires. I can feel the cool air on my face and I can’t help but stop and catch my breath. I’m free from my cell, and I’m ready; ready to run, escape, do whatever Draco desires of me.

His hand catches my sleeve and I hear his ordered “Run!” I don’t wait for anything else. I know that if they capture me that I will die and so will he. I trot behind him as he keeps his grasp on me. I don’t care where we’re going. I only know that I want away from this place of despair and misery, the site of my defeat.

We run past a bonfire. Bodies are stacked around it. I’m glad that there isn’t time to stop. I’m afraid of who I might see. Who I might have condemned to death and to be burned like trash. The smell is terrible and I gag. Draco doesn’t hear me and I’m glad. He already thinks I’m weak and broken. I will follow him now, I will obey him, but I will not be afraid. I will not show him fear. It’s the one thing I have left.

We trot onwards. I stumble over branches and chunks of stone that look like they’ve fallen from the castle. I glance over at my former home, my school. It is a broken heap of stone and wood in parts. The tower still stands, as does the clock tower. It is now the haunt of Death Eaters and Voldemort. I want no part of it. Still, the sight of its destruction makes me want to cry, but I can’t. There isn’t time for grief or mourning now. I need to escape. I need to live.

I hear a wolf howl. I wonder if it’s Greyback. I know it’s not Lupin.

My friends are gone, Ron, Hermione, Lupin, all the Weasley’s except Charlie. Charlie could be dead for all I know. I just know that he didn’t die with his family. The members of the Order are dead, at least all of them except Shacklebolt. I haven’t seen his body yet. They’re all gone and I stumble but continue behind Draco, gasping, and the pain of loss of everyone I ever loved making me stumble over my feet.

“Faster!” I hear Draco hiss at me. We have been running for what seems like forever. I stumble and my breath is harsh, even to my own ears. I’ve been confined too long and I’m weak.

“What’s the matter Potter? Can’t a half-blood keep up with thePureblood?” Draco taunts me. I can’t help it, I’m tired and I have a stitch.

“I can run any further, Draco.” I reply, wheezing. The smoke has made me wheeze, the stench of burning bodies has made me sick.

I watch as his scarred face contorts and he hits me. It’s like he’s moving in slow motion, his arm drawing back and then coming toward my face. It’s not very hard and the pain is minimal. I know it’s because I’ve offended him. I don’t want to offend him. I just want to be free.

“You will call me Master, do you understand me? When you have earned the right to call me by my given name, I will let you know!” he hisses at me through bared teeth.

I can’t help cringing under his glare. I nod and rub the place where he’s struck me.

I’m afraid of him right now. His face is a mask of torture. The scar that I’ve given him runs from one side of his face to the bottom. His lips are cruel imitations of what I remember from our school days. I would dream of those perfect, pale pink lips kissing me then. Now… I’m just afraid of what they will say or do to me.

His face shifts. He reminds me of Feirback. He has the same sort of hungry look on his face and I’m suddenly more afraid than before.

“Come!” he commands and I rise. The words are bitter to me, but I say them anyway.

“Yes… Master,” I reply sullenly. I don’t want to offend him, but this is not me! I am not weak!

He grins at me and I know that he is pleased with my choice of words.

A flash of green light passes between us. As one, we turn and face its source.

My heart lurches. I hear their voices screaming, coming toward us. We could fight them, we could win, but I hear my Master yell at me to run and I run.

I run as if the hounds of hell at nipping at my heels. I hear him close behind. We’re almost past the Apparation boundries of Hogwarts. I feel the old magic prickle across my skin. The spells are streaking past us now. Voldemort’s Death Eaters are drawing closer. Suddenly, I hear an anguished cry and I glance back and see my Master fall to the ground, a smoking hole in his robes.

I slow and turn, waiting to see if he arises, but he lays on the damp forest floor, twitching with pain, but not screaming, because that would draw the Death Eaters to us even faster.

I crouch down and look into his face. I whisper, “Master?” not knowing if he’s conscious or not.

His eyelids flicker and I think he’s passing out. I don’t know what to do. I could run and leave him on the cold, damp ground for those bastards to find. I could lift him and find some sort of hiding place, but I’m not thinking straight and I’m terribly afraid.

“Gaunt…hou…”he gasps. I think he means Voldemort’s mother’s house. It’s insane! Surely not there! I see the Death Eaters burst from the trees and start running toward us, their wands at the ready, their evil masks of death bobbing as they run. I make my decision.

I lift my master in my arms and turn and the dark tunnel closes around us. I hear him whimper as we emerge into a dirty room, with broken furniture, and cobwebs blocking our every exit.

I try to arrange his cloak under him as I lay him on the floor. He’s so pale and lifeless. Have I killed him? Am I a murderer now?

I see his eyes flicker and open. He is confused and he tries to speak.

“Master?” I can’t help but call him that.

His lips curve into a parody of a smile. I have pleased him.

“Are you all right? I didn’t know what to do!” I’m babbling now and the words sound stupid, even to me.

“Wh… what? I hear him gasp out. I don’t know what to do to help him. The basic medical training course in school never covered spells such as this. His shoulder is bleeding heavily, and I know the pain must be tremendous.

I babble on. I am so afraid right now.

“You were hit with a spell. I don’t know what kind. I was running like you told me to and I heard you fall. I ran back and the Death Eaters were coming and you were bleeding,” I hear myself saying. I know I sound pathetic, but I don’t care. “I heard you say something. I hope I did all right,” I say, afraid to tell him that I guessed at the few syllables that I heard him gasp out in pain.

His face works and he finally asks me. “Where are we?”

“I thought you said ‘Gaunt House’ and that’s where I Apparated us. I was so afraid that I would splinch us. I barely got us here. Please, please Master, have I done what you wished?” I reply.

He looks chilled and I lift his cold, pale hand to my face, to share whatever warmth still left in me. I’m suddenly horrified that I’ve made a mistake. Surely someone who dared to steal me away from Voldemort would live in a more habitable place than this? “Please, please Master, have I done what you wished?” I ask him. What if I’ve guessed wrong?

“Yes,” he finally whispers back. He doesn’t pull his fingers out of my grasp, but allows me to keep them next to my cheek. They are ice cold, and paler than death. I want to feel his warm hands on me again. But the hot copper smell grows and the blood on his robes seems to grow larger each second I hold his fingers to my face.

“What’s wrong with me,” he whispers weakly. He seems to fade before my eyes, his skin growing paler, more translucent with passing moment.

“You’re bleeding… your shoulder. You have a hole blown in it. Malfoy… Master, what?” I stop. I don’t want him to know how helpless I feel right now, how little I know about medical charms, how afraid that I am that he is going to die.

I only want to take his pain, to draw it from his body. I want him to live, to take me away from this place, to take me away from the horror of this world. I never even knew I was a part of this world or what my part would be in it. I’ve only wanted to be loved by someone, or even to experience love once in my life. It’s been nothing but pain, mistrust, betrayal and hurt so far.

“You have to… clean the magic… from the wound,” Draco panted, the pain making his voice quiver.

I glance about the ramshackle cottage and realize there is nothing there to clean it with, no water, no clean cloths, and I haven’t enough magic in me to spell it clean. There isn’t enough time to leave him and search for a way to clean his torn and bloodied flesh.

I bend down and kiss his bloodied shoulder, tasting his torn flesh, the hot scent filling my nostrils. I lick the torn flesh only wanting to help him. I don’t know where this idea comes from, but between kisses I lick the torn and bleeding flesh. The blood seepage slows and I hear him moan. It doesn’t sound like pain, but something else.

He says my name haltingly. I turn and see the lustful need in his eyes and I can’t stop myself. I kiss him and he draws me into a hungry kiss. His teeth are sharp against my lip as I draw back. I feel his blood drip down my chin and onto my robes. If there was a way to take his suffering I would.
“I would take the pain for you… Master,” I hear myself saying.

He asks for his wand. I hand it to him. His words are soft and ragged, and the movement of his wand is erratic until he steadily points it at me.

I gasp. A tearing, burning pain starts in my shoulder and travels down my spine to my gut, to my heart, to every part of my body. This is it. I’m dying, I know it. I feel my skin rip apart and the smell of my blood fills the air around me. I feel like my insides are on fire and it burns through me.

“You… you did this?” I ask, trembling. The pain is great, but better for me to handle it than for my Master.

“You said you wanted my pain,” Draco replies. I know before he speaks that he has given his suffering to me. I bear it gladly, but it’s almost too much. I don’t hear what he says afterward, I only know the fire raging in my body, and the stench of my blood draining from my torn veins filling my nose.

“Damn,” I moan. I can only writhe in the dirt of this miserable place. It’s all over for me. My dreams are gone and my life is fading from my grasp.

I feel Draco straddle my body. I suppose he’s going to watch me die. Perhaps he’s never seen someone die that’s he’s fucked. Perhaps, he has only seen death in battle and not up close and personal.

I hear him. I stop my writhing and lie still. The pain doesn’t stop, but I feel his gentle touch on my body, removing my ragged clothing, undoing my trousers, stripping me of the rags I have been wearing. I feel the coldness from the ground seep into my body. Soon, I will be dead.

I hear him say something. I know nothing, the world is nothing but pain and my vision is fading in and out. Unconsciousness would be a blessing, but I am not blessed. I am damned.

I feel myself being lifted. I want to throw my arms around my Master’s neck, but I can’t. There is nothing left of me, the room swims before my eyes and I long to close them forever.

The floor is no longer beneath me, and I feel a little warmer as if there is a fire nearby. But, it doesn’t matter, the pain and coldness have seeped deep within me. I feel myself withdrawing within myself, the outside world is disappearing around me. It won’t be much longer. I hear myself crying out, but I don’t know what I’m saying, nor do I care. It’s all about pain now, there is nothing else in my world.

He raises my head tenderly, and something foul tasting is being poured in my mouth. I would spit it out, but I’m too weak, so I swallow the nasty stuff down.

I feel different. I hear my Master talking now. I really don’t understand what he’s saying, but his voice is growing louder and my vision is clearing. The pain is receding and although I still hurt, it’s not unbearable. I feel stronger, clearer, more alive than before. I feel a bed underneath me, a soft mattress and bedding that is luxurious on my bare skin.

My Master’s face is above me, and I can’t help the amazed words that tumble from my mouth.

“The pain… I don’t hurt anymore,” I say, amazed that I’ve come back after being so close to death.

My Master is smiling at me and he leans over and kisses me. His lips are soft upon mine and I feel his tongue in my mouth. I suck at it and want this kiss to continue. I see the blood that was on my lips is now on his. He smiles and kisses my jaw and down my neck to the torn flesh of my shoulder. His lips are on me and I now know why he moaned when I did the same to him. I want to feel his lips all over my body. I gaze at him and then close my eyes for a moment. When I open them, he is above me, his mouth stained with my blood and he leans down to kiss me again. I taste myself upon him. He and I are one creature, sharing the same blood and pain.

His next words are seductive and I shiver when I hear them.

“I want to pleasure you. I want to fuck you until you cry. I want to be so far inside you that you don’t know where I end and you begin. I want you to feel like you’ve never felt before. Do you understand?” he says softly. His eyes are intense and the irises swirl like a storm cloud.

His hands are all over my body. I feel him smear the blood upon my body toward my groin and his fingers brush my hardening cock. I want him so badly now that it hurts. But this is a pain that I can accept and greet as a friend.

“I do, but Mas… Draco, the blood, your bed,” I say worriedly. I have never been on such a fine bed before. And I have said his given name and he hasn’t struck me. Something has changed.

He laughs and my heart leaps in my chest. “As if I care,”he says, smiling.

His hand in on my cock, squeezing, stroking and I feel it twitch in his hand. He presses his free hand against the bloody wound on my shoulder. I feel no pain, but his hand comes away covered in my blood. I don’t care, I am his to do with what he wants.

“You will suffer no ill effects from the blood loss, Harry. The potion is two fold, it will prevent pain from your wound and will replenish your blood. I will bandage you and apply ointments that will complete the healing process…. later.” Draco says to me, smirking.

“Thank you,” I gasp. His hand is doing something utterly wicked to my dick. His soft fingers are sliding along my length and then momentarily tightening around the base. Nonsensical words are pouring from my mouth, but if he continues what he is doing, I will say them forever.

He stands, removing his hand from my cock, and I start to sit up. I don’t want him to stop. But, he’s removing his clothes and the sight of his creamy white flesh stirs me as much as his hand has. He catches me staring at him, at his shoulder and he smiles wickedly at me.

“Stay still for now, there will be time for moving soon.” I want to touch him, feel the muscles move under his skin, feel his lips upon me, my cock, my lips, anywhere he wants to put them. I crave him as a starving person craves food.

His cock bobs as he moves toward me. I can’t keep my eyes from it, my mouth craves it.

“Do you want to be pleasured, Harry,” he asks, almost purring. “I think you do.”

I turn over carefully. I know that I feel no pain right now, but what if movement brings the fire back? But, there is no pain. I kneel on the bed, my head on arms, my arse toward him. I can’t help it, I beg. “Please… Draco?”

He climbs on the bed and I feel his presence behind me, the heat from his body touching my skin. His hands are touching me, my chest, my stomach, my shoulder, my cock and I know he wants me as much as I want him. His fingers are at my entrance. They feel slick with something. I don’t care what he does to me, I only want to feel his cock in me. His fingers are in me and a sudden jolt of pleasure runs through me. I whimper as he touches me there again, his fingers deep within me. He adds another finger and I push back against them, wanting them in me deeper. He pulls his fingers from my arse and then he’s crouching over me.

“Patience my pet, your reward will be given to you soon,” Draco whispers. I have no patience left, I want it, I want him now.

My head is being turned, and I smell myself on his hand. “Smell how you want me, Harry?” he purrs. It’s dark and musky and its origin is all his. I moan, from both the touch and smell of his hand and because his cock is pressed between my arse cheeks.

He’s touching me again, tossing me off, but I cannot move.

“Yes my pet,” he whispers in my ear and his voice trails off huskily. “Soon… soon.” And his hand is moving faster, rougher and I grind into it. I feel his teeth upon my neck and the prickle of pain and the pleasure he’s giving me makes me shiver and moan with desire. “Master….”

I feel his tongue tracing a path from my shoulder, down my back to my arse. His cock is rock-hard and pressed against me. He desires me. I feel him press against my entrance and I hold my breath.

He enters me slowly this time, not has rough and brutal as the first time. It’s as if he’s rewarding me for doing what what I wanted to do, to save him from his former master, Voldemort. “Oh God,” I moan as he pushes himself all the way in. He is completely in me. I feel him when I breathe and he moves with me as I draw in a breath.

His hands are soothing on my back and I relax. I can’t believe he asks me if it hurts! As if his cock in me could possibly hurt! But, again he calls me his pet. Am I his pet? His personal fuck toy? Is there any possibility of being anything more to him? At this moment, there is only his cock, my arse, and the feeling of being full; his cock brushing that spot in me that sends sparks of pleasure through me.

I cannot lie to him, so I whimper like the bottom I am, “A little, Master.” I must have said the right thing because his movement is slow and almost tender. He will not hurt me this time. I know because he moves and the pleasure grows as his cock is gripped tight inside me.

I grunt and move back, wanting to keep every inch inside me as long as possible. He knows what I want.

“Pleasure and pain are yours, Harry,” he taunts. He rams into me and I cry out, but I continue to meet him as he pushes into me. His hand is still on my dick and my come is all over his hand, all over me, and all over his fine bed. Suddenly, he slows his thrusts and my legs and arms begin to shake. He’s prolonging our release and I hang on as long as I can.

His breath is on my shoulder and without warning, he sinks his teeth in me, just as he rams into me one last time. My mind is screaming a litany of Oh God, oh yes, oh God!’ I feel his seed fill me and we finally collapse on his bed. The sheets are slimy beneath me, but he doesn’t seem to care, so neither will I. I pull his arms around me and hold them tight to my stomach. I am so tired now. I want to sleep. I want him next to me and to have him wrapped around me. My eyes flutter, I am so tired that all I want to do is sleep.

He pulls his arms from around me, but I don’t move. I don’t want him to know that I’m still awake; that I can watch him without him knowing.

He gently rubs ointment into my wound. I feel my muscles knitting back together, and my skin growing and covering the raw muscle. My shoulder is tender and his touch is soft and deliberate. A bandage is placed over the new, pink skin. I wait for him to lie back down beside me, but I’m ready to do whatever I have to, to have him beside me as I sleep.

I hear him whisper and the mess beneath me vanishes. I would have lain in shit just to be next to him. But, this is much better, clean sheets, a warm comforter, and then the slight dip as he lies back down next to me. He lies there, breathing slowly and evenly. I wonder what he’s thinking. That’s all I can do for now… wonder.


TBC....